THE LEGEND OF LOVE 

SUTHERLAND 

PZ 3 
. S9643 
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COPY 1 



THE LEGEND OF LOVE 


A TALE ADAPTED TO THE REQUIREMENTS 
OF CHILDREN AND OTHERS 


BY 

H. V. SUTHERLAND 



Privately Printed 


J'A '23 I893 


i / 

^ y 



San Francisco 



Copyright, 1893, 
BY 

H. V. Sutherland. 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


CHAPTER I. 

NCE upon a time, in those happy 
days before the grinding of the 
wheels of life began to destroy the 
harmony of winds and waves; 
when the flowers still turned their expectant 
faces upward to receive the kisses of the pity- 
ing night-angels ; when the birds returned 
from the threshold of Paradise, with wondrous 
songs to sing to the youths and the maidens 
who awaited them in the beam-haunted glades 
of the gardens, — in fact, in the days when men 
were sincere and women were true, — there 
lived a youth whose name was Yverdel. 

This youth was the only child of a great 
prince and -warrior, Cholef de Coeur d’Or, 
whose dominions were situated in a very 
desirable but now long-forgotten corner of the 
Old World. 

The castle in which he resided was one of 
the oldest known, and only the strongest bow- 



4 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


men were able to send an arrow across the 
moat which surrounded it, so wide was it 
made by the conscience-racked gentlemen 
with murderous inclinations who designed it. 
This moat could be flooded at a moment’s 
notice by letting in the water from a large 
lake, located on the outskirts of the forests 
which surrounded the castle on all sides. 

Why the castle was so strongly fortified no 
one knew, for the nearest neighbor was King 
Ba, and he lived hundreds of miles away. 
This King Ba was a powerful and tyrannical 
ruler. His name was seldom mentioned in 
polite society; for, besides being disliked for 
his tyranny, he had the unsavory reputation 
of being a magician and the owner of the 
Flaming Topaz of the Smaragds. 

To dabble in the black arts, as you all know, 
was accounted a great sin in those days, and 
if there had been any one powerful enough 
to take him to task for it, the King might have 
got into trouble; as it was people let him 
severely alone, and he, being slightly cynical, 
felt much the better for their behavior. 

The chronicles of the time state that when 
Cholef de Cceur d’Or and the wicked King 
Ba were entering upon manhood they were 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 5 

quite friendly, and made an excursion to the 
great-granddaughter of the Witch of Lut, who 
lived in Persia, to inquire of her as to how 
they could best become wise and famous men. 
The Witch told them she had in her posses- 
sion a book which contained the latest secrets 
about necromancy, astrology, palmistry and 
faith-healing, together with a full explanation 
of the number Four, by which any one would 
be able to gain full understanding of every- 
thing on, above and below the earth, and 
which would also reveal to the owner the 
whereabouts of the Flaming Topaz of the 
Smaragds. This stone, as is well known, gave 
to its wearer full power over all the elements 
and the powers of darkness; over the fairies 
and elves and dwarfs of woods, and groves, 
and fields, and meadows, and hills, and caves, 
and hearths, and homes, and seas, and rivers. 
Upon its surface, as upon that of the famous 
Cup of Jamshyd, was portrayed whatever the 
owner wished to behold. The price demanded 
for this most unique work was the soul of the 
buyer and that of his first-born child. The 
former was claimable only after death, the 
latter only during life. When the owner died 
his soul would be carried away to eternal 


6 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


torments, while that of his child would be 
released forever and forever. 

Cholef de Coeur d’Or shuddered at the offer, 
and vowed he would sooner trust to fate and 
his own right arm, or the possibility of mak- 
ing a rich marriage, than buy knowledge and 
power at such a fearful price. But King Ba 
demanded the book at once, saying he was 
willing to pay the stipulated price if in the 
meantime he could not find a way of evading 
it. The Witch, smiling grimly, retired into 
her cave, from whence she presently issued 
bearing a thick quarto volume with uncut 
edges and a superior binding, and after hav- 
ing made the King sign the agreement in red 
and blue blood, handed it over to him, and 
bade them both depart. 

The chronicles further state that on the 
homeward journey Cholef de Coeur d’Or 
offered to relieve the King for a while of his 
burden; but the King winked his left eye and 
said nothing. After this incident a coolness 
sprang up between them, which lasted even 
until they were married and had children ; so 
we surmise that only a wholesome fear of the 
other’s power kept them from attacking one 
another. 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


7 


King Ba called his first-born — a daughter — 
Eidole, because she was made to be worshiped. 
She was kept in great seclusion; for her father 
feared she might meet with a fatal accident, 
and so cause the powers of darkness to grow 
impatient for the possession of his own soul. 

Yverdel, when my story opens, was a youth 
of twenty summers. His mother, who had 
died shortly after his birth, was a lovely 
woman, and from her he had inherited his 
perfect beauty, sweetness and nobility of char- 
acter. For youths were indeed noble in those 
days. They were trained amidst strong- 
armed warriors and gray-haired minstrels. 
Frivolous young ladies were kept away from 
them, and the only woman who entered their 
lives was the Madonna — and until one becomes 
a man that one is surely the best. 

In early boyhood, after the few hours de- 
voted to study were over, he was allowed to 
do just as he pleased. There being no other 
children of his age in the castle, it was his 
custom to sit and dream in the little oratory, 
where everything was so hushed that one 
could almost hear the whispering of the an- 
gels as they stood by the windows to welcome 
in the lazy sunbeams; or he would wander 


8 THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 

out into the great fir forests, where he would 
lie on the crisp, brown carpet, watching the 
glittering cobwebs hanging amongst the 
branches. Thus would he await the arrival 
of some dainty fairy to lead him away into 
the secret paths of fairyland; or he would 
peer into the depths of some motionless pool, 
and, Narcissus-like, growing sad at the reflec- 
tion of his own sweet beauty, would grasp at 
it, and wonder why it always eluded him. 
Then he would wander into the depths of the 
wood again to where the doves had their 
nests, and would sing to them of his unhap- 
piness, and ask them why it was. But the 
doves, who had gone through it all that very 
spring, only sighed and said nothing. The 
male dove nestled a little closer to its mate, 
perhaps ; but Yverdel could not see that — so, 
of course, he was none the wiser. 

When the summer was over the entire forest 
was covered with snow; but the boy loved it 
then all the more. For in those days the 
elves held high festivals in wintertime. They 
danced at midnight around the tallest fir- 
tree, and fortunate indeed was the person who 
could see them without disturbing their revels. 
Never as yet had they been seen by mortal 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


9 


eyes. But the old women of the castle told a 
tale of how a poor peasant, who had lost his 
way in the blinding snow, was found dead 
beneath a fir-tree with ' a heap of fir-cones 
above him to keep his body from the teeth of 
the wolves. In each of his cold, white hands 
lay a fresh-plucked snowdrop. And this, said 
the old women, was a proof that the elves had 
done it — for any one else would have crossed 
his hands upon his breast, or laid a wooden 
cross thereon. 

Thus it was that Yverdel passed the years 
of his boyhood, — amongst the trees and the 
silent waters, and the singing birds, and the 
fairies. As the flowers open to the sun, so his 
heart naturally opened to beauty. But as he 
grew older, he began to want something more. 
Not that he did not believe in them all as of 
yore, but there seemed to be something want- 
ing — one link to make the chain of his life 
complete; and as the birds would not tell him 
what it was, he determined upon finding the 
answer to his question elsewhere. 

(0 Beloved, why is it that the song-birds — 
God’s humblest choristers — may not reveal to 
us the things the heart yearns to know, and 
wdiich might make us happy? Could they 


10 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


but tell us some few of the secrets they see 
written on the snow-white pages of the great 
Book of Life which lies open at the portals of 
heaven, how much pain could be spared our 
quivering hearts, how many murmurs would 
become great anthems of praise and happiness, 
and thus pass through our trembling lips to 
swell the eternal crash of praise-waves which 
flood the threshold of the Holy of Holies !) 

One evening, when Yverdel was sitting near 
the log fire in the great dining-hall of the 
castle, listening to the melodious strains of a 
white-haired, blind harpist, he became very 
unhappy. Presently the soothing music drew 
tears into his eyes, and he shyly approached 
the player and told him of his sorrow, asking 
why no one could give him consolation. The 
old man laid his harp aside, and groping for 
the lad, drew the golden head upon the folds 
of his white robes, — as an early daffodil may 
be drawn upon the bosom of the snow, or an 
affrighted and weary soul upon the bosom of 
the merciful God. There he pressed him 
closely for a while, until the scalding tears 
ceased flowing, and then he said : 

“My little Prince, there was once a dainty 
wild pansy growing beneath the shadow of 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


11 


an elm within the odorous Gardens of the 
Dead. Every day the little flower would look 
up to the great Sun King, pleading that he, 
for sweet pity’s sake, would stay a while and 
play. But the haughty sun gave no answer — 
only passed on. 

“And when with night the Moon Lady 
came, the pansy felt sure that one with so pale 
and sad a face would have pity in her heart ; 
so it cried out to her to tarry a while on her 
journey. But the Lady said nothing — only 
passed on. 

“ The stars would not even look at the little 
griever, but followed the trail of their mistress, 
— and so the pansy was left all alone. 

“ But one evening the loving Gardener — 
grown weary with ministering to the unhappy 
— wandered into the silence-haunted gardens 
to rest. He happened to sit beneath the elm- 
tree, and looking down saw at his feet the 
tear-stained face of the pansy, wistful even in 
sleep. He smiled very sweetly, and presently 
passed on. When the pansy awoke next 
morning, beside it grew a bright-faced daisy. 
Together the two flowers lived in happiness 
and contentment, smiling at the rage of the 
winds, and caring nothing for the proud sun, 


12 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


or the cold moon, or the frivolous stars. Day 
by day they grew dearer and fairer to each 
other, and so awaited the return of the Gar- 
dener to transplant them to a happier and 
brighter land.” 

The boy looked up into the calm old face 
above him, and asked how the daisy could 
possibly help the pansy in its sorrow, — and 
who the Immortal Gardener was, — and what 
the tale had to do with his own life? The 
old man, telling him to think it over, picked 
up his harp again and played a very sweet 
air. And soon the meaning dawned upon 
the boy, for he kissed the old man on the lips, 
then laughed happily and ran away. 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


13 


CHAPTER II. 

S E DIABLON was the name of the 
chateau wherein King Ba resided 
with his daughter, the Princess 
Eidole. 

It was a grewsome-looking place, and pil- 
grims, though wearied by the day’s journey, 
preferring to spend the night in the forest 
sooner than sleep within its walls, passed on, 
with a muttered “ Aye Maria,” which might 
easily have been mistaken for a curse. There 
were no white servants about the place; King 
Ba having secured the services of well-trained 
negro mutes to attend to his wants and those 
of his daughter. 

The King spent all day and the greater part 
of the night in his laboratory, where, with 
face protected by a glass mask and hands en- 
cased in steel gauntlets, he toiled to discover 
the secret of the essence of the soul. It was 
a matter of great importance to him — for by 
so doing alone could he hope to escape the 
clutches of Satan when the latter should de- 
mand payment for his services. 



14 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


The Princess Eidole sat morn after morn, 
noon after noon, and night after night, in the 
silence of her chamber, hearing only the tick- 
ing of the death-watch within the wall, and 
the gnawing of the rats beneath the oaken 
floor. Sometimes the bloated things came out 
and crawled about her feet, yet they worried 
her not; for morn after morn, noon after 
noon, and night after night, she was thinking, 
thinking, thinking, — thinking of something 
she seemed to possess and yet had never 
known. Her eyes were riveted upon the floor, 
which they seemed to burn through with their 
terrible intensity. 

Yet she saw nothing, heard nothing, and 
knew nothing of what she was seeking. 

Whilst she sat thus in the silence, seeking 
for the soul she had never possessed, her father 
was groaning and cursing over his fruitless 
efforts to counterfeit the one he so soon should 
lose. And so they lived in Le Diablon, day 
after day, noon after noon, and night after 
night, amidst the rats and the negro mutes, 
and the ever-ticking death-watch. 

King Ba w r as a very avaricious man, and 
often had he cast envious eyes upon the pos- 
sessions of his neighbor, Cholef de Coeur d’Or, 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 15 

whose lands were more fruitful and valuable 
than his own. After much thought upon the 
subject, he conceived the idea of making his 
daughter marry Prince Yverdel. This would 
bring him one step nearer his desire, and upon 
a befitting occasion he would contrive to put 
Cholef de Coeur d’Or out of the way, and then 
play the part of benevolent guardian to the 
unsuspecting children. 

King Ba, in the pleasure this project afforded 
him, even began to forget his other disappoint- 
ments; but one afternoon as he was enjoying 
his accustomed dose of Gilka, who should ap- 
pear before him but the Descendant of the 
Witch of Lut! Without even apologizing for 
shocking the King’s nerves, she hit his knuc- 
kles a rap with her gingham umbrella, and 
said that the Princess Eidole must remain 
single, otherwise the compact might be broken, 
and her soul would have to be released before 
the stipulated time. 

Upon hearing this, King Ba whistled very 
softly, and then told the Descendant she might 
return at once to fair Arabia, where in soli- 
tude and silence she could await the outcome 
of her most dire plot. 

Then the Descendant became very excited, 


16 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


and spoke in fourteen different languages all 
at once — but to no avail. So she broke an 
ormolu clock and a hand-painted china dog, 
and then departed, vowing to be avenged. 

King Ba now determined to have the mar- 
riage take place as soon as possible. 

He threw open the castle to all comers, en- 
gaged new servants with white faces and soiled 
linen, and treated his daughter to a steady 
course of etiquette and Delsarte, so that after 
very few months she became quite presentable 
and every inch a lady. 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


17 


CHAPTER III. 

NE glorious spring morning, just 
about the hour when the birds 
cease their matins, a trumpeter, 
dressed in a quiet robe of salmon 
and green with the signs of the zodiac paint- 
ed on it, and seated upon a richly caparisoned 
steed, rode up to the gates of the castle of Cho- 
lef de Coeur d’Or, demanding the reception 
of King Ba and his daughter, the Princess 
Eidole. 

Once only did the silvery notes of his trum- 
pet quiver through the crisp air ; before it was 
necessary to repeat the call the great draw- 
bridge was lowered, and a gallantly attired 
page approached the outrider, bearing mes- 
sages of welcome to the King and his entire 
retinue. Inside the castle all was hurry and 
bustle. The gray-haired retainers began to 
think of old times when the arrival of a 
sprinkling of kings and princesses was a 
weekly occurrence. The cooks began to take 
a keener interest in the welfare of their pigs 
and poultry than usual. The blind harpist 



18 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


tuned his harp anew, and tried to remember 
the snatches of quaint melodies which haunted 
his memory like half-forgotten dreams. Yver- 
del wondered what the Princess Eidole would 
be like, and Cholef de Coeur d’Or wondered 
what the deuce had entered King Ba’s head 
to make him pay such an unexpected call. 

Wondering did no good whatever, and be- 
fore long the neighing of horses and jingling 
of silver bells announced the arrival of his 
fair guest and her illustrious father. 

With a courtly smile and bow, Cholef de 
Coeur d’Or helped the Princess to alight, and 
then escorted her and her father to the great 
hall, whence the serving-women led her away 
to the apartments allotted her. 

Yverdel, who all this time had been stand- 
ing behind a post, ran to the harpist and 
described the scene to him. 

“What is she like, my Prince?” inquired 
the old man. 

“ She is very beautiful,” answered the boy. 
“Her face is as calm and pale as the moon on 
a stormy night, and masses of soft black hair 
fall down to her knees. Once, as she looked 
past me, I saw into her eyes, and it seemed as 
though I were looking into eternity — but it 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE . 19 

was an eternity with nothing beyond. Her 
mouth is a well of love; but the waters thereof 
may be bitter, for she seldom smiles; and from 
her person there emanates a scarcely percep- 
tible yet alluring perfume — like the odor of 
the first cool breath of Death as it creeps 
slowly up from out the gray-hued east. She 
must be my own age,” continued the youth, 
“but she is much wiser; for she looks like one 
who has known great sorrow, and who has 
wandered through the Valley of Eternal Si- 
lences to the shores of the Sea of Life, and has 
seen the souls of little children embark hope- 
fully upon the outflowing tide to return aged 
and embittered with the flood. And her 
knowledge has made her sad.” 

“Do you like her, my Prince?” asked the 
old man, sorrowfully. 

And the boy answered, very sweetly, “I 
love her.” 

* * * * * * 

Whilst the Princess Eidole was arranging 
her costume, King Ba and Cholef de Coeur 
d’Or stepped into a retired chamber and held 
a hurried conversation. In it the King told 
the Prince it was his fond hope that their two 


20 THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 

children should fall in love with one another 
and inherit, upon the deaths of their parents, 
their combined possessions. 

Cholef de Coeur d’Or looked rather dubious 
at the idea of his son marrying a girl who 
had had no education whatsoever to speak of, 
and whose armorial bearings were as blotted 
over as the manuscript of a fourth-rate rhym- 
ster; but resolving not to annoy his guest 
with his misgivings, said that the idea was 
worthy the King’s philanthropic nature, and 
gave his full consent to it. 

The affair, they both decided, should be 
allowed to work itself out; but the Prince 
wondered in his heart of hearts if the King 
had not already given his daughter some use- 
ful pointers. 

* * * * * * 

Before sitting down to the grand feast that 
night Cholef de Coeur d’Or led his son to the 
Princess Eidole and presented him to her. She 
was dressed in a robe of pale yellow. Around 
her neck hung a brillant topaz, and upon her 
brow lay a wreath of dew-bespangled daffodils. 
Yverdel kissed her hand as she extended it to 
him, and then sat upon a stool beside her. 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 21 

Heavily laden was the table in front of 
them. At one end was a huge boar’s head, 
with bristles and tusks complete; at the other 
was a haunch of venison big enough to sat- 
isfy the wants of a score of hungry beggars. 
Scattered about the table, lay every kind of 
bird, fish and vegetable imaginable, and beside 
every dish stood flagons of ruby-colored wines 
and sparkling ales. Three-and-forty people 
sat down to eat, and all were too busy discuss- 
ing the viands to talk or look about them — 
all save two. 

One of these was lovesick Yverdel, who 
watched the Princess eat, and seemed to get 
enough nutriment out of that enjoyment to 
satisfy his own appetite. The other was the 
jester, who, after a while, nudged the elbow of 
the Prince, and bade him watch them. Cholef 
de Coeur d’Or only sighed and whispered his 
fool that his son must be cautioned to keep 
away from her in the future. The fool replied 
that it would be as wise to caution the nutmeg 
to keep away from the grater, or the fish from 
out the frying-pan. So the fool proved his 
wisdom. 

By eight o’clock the meal was over. All the 
guests upon rising from the table made the 


22 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


sign of the Cross, as was the custom in the 
good old days of yore — all save King Ba 
and the Princess Eidole. So Yverdel made 
the holy sign twice — once for himself and 
once for her; and the jester, who saw him do 
it, winked deliberately five times and then 
laughed. 

As they were all seated around the fire, 
listening to the strains of the harp, Yverdel 
approached the Princess and asked her why 
she did not make the sign of the Cross after 
the meal. Then the Princess turned upon 
him her dark eyes, and, with a half-stifled 
yawn, answered : 

“Because none of my race believe in it. We 
are descended, as you may have heard, from 
the thief who repented at the eleventh hour 
at Golgotha. It is the blackest stain upon 
our escutcheon; but I have forgiven him for 
doing so owing to the agonies he must have 
suffered at the time. One of his teeth was 
extracted after his death, and has been in the 
possession of our family ever since. My father 
curses by it whenever he is in a particularly 
bad mood. Some day I will show it to you.” 

Then Yverdel grew very sad, remembering 
all the strange tales he had heard about King 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


23 


Ba, who, like the Stadings, worshiped a black 
cat, and looked upon Satan as a worshipful 
and most maltreated deity. Presently he took 
from around his neck a silver chain, to which 
was attached a little black crucifix, and asked 
her to wear it for his sake. This she would 
not do at first, but finally, seeing he took her 
refusal much to heart, promised to do so for- 
ever and ever. 

Upon hearing this the heart of the boy 
grew very tender and happy. He kissed her, 
and taking one of her hands in his, whispered 
in her ear : “I love you, Eidole! ” 

But the Princess looked at him with her 
fathomless eyes, and said : “ What is that, little 
Prince ? 55 

The boy repeated the words, and tried to 
explain them, but the Princess still shook her 
head, and said she did not understand what 
he meant. 

Yverdel repeated to her the tale of the pansy 
and the daisy in the Gardens of the Dead, and 
how the Immortal Gardener came to take them 
heavenward, where they could blossom eter- 
nally. Then he said that they too were human 
flowers, whose perfect happiness was depend- 
ent upon the other’s being; and that if she 


24 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


would only love him and trust the One whose 
figure was depicted on the Cross, she too would 
some day earn the right of lasting happiness 
after their slumbers in the Gardens. 

But the Princess Eidole, whose soul was in 
the possession of the powers of darkness, un- 
derstood nothing of love or immortality; and 
the poor boy could only hold her hands in 
his, vainly seeking to give her light, and whis- 
pering, “ I love you.” 

Long before the fire burned low the Princess 
retired. When she was all alone she laid the 
little crucifix upon her snow-white breast, and 
after looking curiously at it for a few moments, 
thought no more about it, and went to bed. 

****** 

But Yverdel was too unhappy to sleep. He 
wandered out into the forest, sadly bewailing 
his fate and that of the girl he loved. 

After walking for some time he heard in the 
distance a strange noise, as of some one chant- 
ing a dirge, and proceeding in the direction 
from whence it came, he saw to his amazement 
an ugly old woman dressed in a gown of bright 
green, with a steeple-shaped red cap on her 
head. She was slowly walking around a big 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 25 

circle, waving an ebony rod and crying out 
in a loud voice : “ Memel, memel, estafa, Ka- 
bakosh!” What this meant Yverdel did not 
know; but, being of an inquiring turn of 
mind, he hid himself behind a tree and closely 
watched the proceedings. Presently a great 
rumbling was heard, the air was filled with 
heavy fumes, the earth shook, and when every- 
thing was clear and still again the boy saw — 
emerging from a hole in the ground — a horrid, 
vapory Thing, which swayed about in the cold 
night air as though impatient to return to 
a more congenial climate. The old woman 
with the red hat put two fingers in her mouth 
and whistled shrilly, whereupon the Thing 
muttered : 

“What dost thou desire of me, Sorceress?” 

“ I desire to know how much longer the soul 
of the Princess Eidole shall remain in our 
possession ? ” answered the hag. 

“Before the moon completes her journey 
three times more her soul will be in the pos- 
session of the powers of light,” answered the 
Thing. “Already the angels have prepared 
an orb for her to inhabit, together with the 
soul of her boy lover — the fair Prince Yver- 
del.” 


26 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


“What more canst thou tell me, 0 Spirit?” 
questioned the hag. 

“ That I have seen it written that thou and 
the false King Ba shall be demanded of the 
Earth Spirits within that same period ; and 
that ye shall both be delivered over unto the 
tormentors to suffer throughout eternity for 
your mutual wickedness. Farewell ! ” 

With these words, the Thing coiled itself 
slowly into the hole, which closed up silently, 
and the old hag, after dancing above it till 
midnight, hanged herself in despair to the 
limb of an inviting oak. 

“That is enough for one night,” said Yver- 
del, and then went thoughtfully to bed. 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


27 


CHAPTER IY. 

EXT day Yverdel went at the ac- 
customed hour into the little ora- 
tory to pray. Through the small 
panes of brilliantly stained glass 
the afternoon sun shone softly, and the youth 
soon found himself thinking more about the 
saints and the Princess Eidole than of his 
prayers. By degrees the sunbeams caressed 
the statue of the Holy Virgin, and the atten- 
tion of the boy was drawn to it immediately 
— for he stretched out his hands to it, as though 
in supplication, and cried: 

“O sweet and gentle Mother! thou who 
hast ever watched over me and heard all my 
murmurings, canst thou not turn the heart of 
my loved one to me? Mother of the mother- 
less! wilt thou not pity me for the sake of thy 
sacred Bon, whose wondrous transfiguration 
atoned for his awful sorrow? 0 Beloved of 
the weary and the unbeloved ! thou knowest 
love’s joy and love’s deep anguish; so leave 
me not helpless, but lead her unto me, and 
save us both forever.” 




28 THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 

The head of the boy drooped slowly upon 
his arm, and presently he saw the Blessed 
Virgin come forth into the dazzling sunlight, 
lifting her hands above his form to bless him, 
and her voice echoed in womanly sweetness 
through the hushed chapel. 

“ Dreamer,” she said, “be not unhappy; for 
the one thou lovest so shall some day be 
given to thee, and be to thee the realization 
of thy fond ideal. Opportunity will first be 
given her to learn the depth of divine mercy 
and of thy love. In the meantime must thou 
tarry upon the earth until thy soul — purified 
through thy yearning — burns through thy 
body’s clay, and wings its flight heavenward 
to lose itself in the glorious brilliance of the 
Eternal. Be undismayed if the shadows of 
life fall about thee; for from the outermost 
porch of Paradise thy loved one shall watch 
thee, — as the stars watch the sleeping world, — 
distinguishing thee from all other men. And 
there she will wait until the night-angel flies 
on cloud-hued pinions to fetch thee to her 
from thy home in the vale where the pale- 
faced sleepers are.” 

The voice ceased, and when the boy awoke 
he doubted if he had been dreaming; but the 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE . 29 

sun still shone through the colored glass, and 
the Blessed Mary still stood within her niche. 
Yverdel crept softly up to her and looked 
closely into her face; but it was very calm, 
and he did not know if the expression thereof 
was happy or sorrowful; so he finished his 
prayers, and then went out to seek the Princess. 
Before he got very far he heard the people 
making a great noise and giving signs of ex- 
treme satisfaction over something. Upon in- 
quiring of one of them what it was all about, 
the man addressed replied that a woodcutter 
had come across the body of a hideous old 
woman hanging from the branches of one of 
the oak trees in the forest; and that, out of 
deference to the desire of King Ba, the body 
was going to be burned at midnight. After 
supper was over, at which a greater amount of 
wine was imbibed than usual, King Ba told 
his hearers some terrible ghost tales of Le 
Diablon, so as to get them as much impressed 
with his greatness as possible. He then told 
them how it was written in the Book of Wis- 
dom that the soul of a suicide could not escape 
until the body wherein it was imprisoned was 
burned ; and then related how he had paid 
back a long outstanding grudge against his 


30 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


mother-in-law — who, in a fit of melancholy, cut 
her throat with a dull razor, — by putting her 
body in a leaden sarcophagus and committing 
it to the bottom of the deep blue sea, — thus 
depriving her forever and ever of her only 
chance of immortality. King Ba laughed 
very heartily when he had told this tale, and 
was going to relate what he did to cure his 
wife’s dislike of the fiddle, when a servant 
came running in, saying it was now mid- 
night, and that everything was ready for the 
bonfire. 

Out they all trooped — King Ba and Cholef 
de Coeur d’Or, Yverdel and the jester, the 
private secretary, fifteen wandering friars and 
a sprinkling of hermits (all of whom had 
stepped in to bless the meal by eating it), the 
father confessor (who slipped a sandwich into 
one pocket and a brandy-flask into another), 
the captain of the guard and his yeomen, the 
head cook and the butler, and all the menials, 
and varlets, and underlings, and bottle-wash- 
ers, and men-servants, and maid-servants, who 
in those days made up the menage of a feudal 
baron. Ahead of them all went the band, 
each man with a different instrument, and 
each instrument with an opinion of its own, 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


31 


which it made as public as possible. Thus 
the procession started out at midnight, leav- 
ing the Princess Eidole, the blind harpist, 
and one old washerwoman in charge of the 
castle. 

In due time the party arrived at their desti- 
nation. A great pile of wood, some twenty 
feet high, stood before them, and upon it could 
be seen, tied to a stake, the body of a ghastly 
old woman, whose head had fallen forward 
upon her breast. Yverdel looked up at her, 
and saw she was the woman who had invoked 
the spirit in the forest. 

When everything was ready fire was applied 
to the wood, and the flames shot upward like 
greedy serpents to their prey. 

King Ba, who had also recognized the De- 
scendant, became delirous with joy, dancing 
with satyr-like movements around the pyre, 
and very soon the feeling became contagious, 
for every one danced — even the hermits and 
the father confessor. But of a sudden they all 
became immovable with terror — for the mouth 
of the old hag opened, and out of it crawled 
the long, furry Thing Yverdel had seen in the 
woods. This time it had red wings and a sky- 
blue tail, and flew upon King Ba, carrying 


32 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


him, willy-nilly, shrieking, through the awful 
darkness. With white faces and trembling 
knees, the spectators returned to the castle. 
Nobody spoke except the fool, who nudged 
the arm of Cholef de Coeur d’Or, and said: “ I 
told you so!” And thus the fool again did 
prove his wisdom. 

5jc * 5(c 

Shortly after midnight, when the people 
were returning from the auto-da-fe, the Prin- 
cess Eidole heard a strange noise at the foot of 
her bed, and withdrawing her head from be- 
neath the bedclothes, she saw her beloved 
father — dead — in the clutches of a fearful 
monster. 

After dragging him about the floor for some 
minutes, the monster stood him upon his head, 
danced joyfully around him, and then dis- 
appeared up the chimney, dragging the body 
with him. 

When the Princess had recovered from the 
fright she shrieked loudly, and the waiting- 
women who had just returned, rushing into 
her room, found her in a dead faint upon the 
chilly floor. Carefully they picked her up 
and laid her in her bed, but it soon became 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


33 


apparent she could not long survive the terri- 
ble shock she had sustained. 

Yverdel was heart-broken. He did every- 
thing in his power to restore her to conscious- 
ness, calling her endearing names, and telling 
her she had nothing to fear now that he was 
near. But it was all of no avail; the proud 
white lips would not touch his; the dark eyes 
still looked at him with a vacant stare, and 
the heart beneath her bosom fluttered im- 
perceptibly, like the wing of a dying bird. 
Toward early morning, when the sky was 
lead-hued and terrible, a low wind arose and 
stirred the trees of the forest with its moaning. 
The old nurse, who had watched faithfully all 
night, shuddered, and whispered: “It is the 
cradle-song of Death ! ” 

The Princess Eidole heard it, too, — for she 
smiled, and saying “I come,” her head drooped 
upon the breast of Yverdel, and she was dead. 

She was placed, — together with heliotrope 
and jessamine, — in a casket of purest crystal, 
and laid to slumber in a quiet grotto dedicated 
to the iris and the nightshade. Upon her 
breast was the small black crucifix, the light 


34 


THE LEGEND OF LOVE. 


of which was to guide her through eternity, 
and some day enable her to behold the heart 
of her true lover. 

Yverdel, after the opening to the grotto had 
been sealed up, returned to the oratory and 
looked wistfully into the face of the Madonna. 
It told him nothing, and he began to weep 
bitterly at the thought of his great loss and 
of his coming loneliness! But presently the 
blind harpist groped his way toward him, 
and finding him weeping, told him how the 
swallows were singing of a beautiful soul they 
had seen journeying eastwards to greet the 
dawn. 

Then the youth remembered that even now 
she might be watching him from the mar- 
ble stairs of heaven; so he kneeled before 
the Blessed Mother in prayer, and arose com- 
forted. 

And this is The Legend of Love. 


TO APPEAR SHORTLY 


THE SUICIDE 


A STUDY IN PESSIMISM 


































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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 


